by Robyn Grady
Tahlia returned to the door. “I’ll leave you to rest.”
“We were discussing just now,” Darius cut in, “whether you might like to join us for supper.”
Tahlia’s chin rose. “I’ve already made plans.”
With Otis, Helene presumed.
Understanding, too, Darius angled his head and surrendered to a small smile. “Bring him along.”
Tahlia’s expression froze in amazement. Then, eyes glistening, her smile grew until she was beaming. “I’ll go tell him now.”
Halfway out the door, she raced back, threw her arms around her brother’s waist, and then bounded out of the room. While Darius crossed to shut the door his sister had left wide open, all Helene could think was that she wanted to hug him, too.
“You’ve made her so happy,” she said.
He crossed over to where she sat and drew her to her feet. His thumbs stroked the tops of her hands as his gaze roamed her face.
“Guess you can’t fight a rising tide.” His expression sobered. “We have a lot of changes to get our heads around.”
She sighed. “Just a few.”
He tasted her lips, and then tasted them again. “We need to make one straight away.”
“What’s that?”
“The one about you moving in with me permanently. Tonight we sleep in my bed.”
…
Darius accompanied Helene down the wide hall that led to his private quarters, which was a larger, grander version of her former accommodation. As soon as the main door was locked behind them, he gathered her close. His mouth dropping to hers, he claimed the kiss he’d yearned to take.
The doctor’s verdict had been a confirmation of what he seemed to have already known somewhere deep inside. As the days had ticked by, he’d come to believe—and then accept—that their first night together had resulted in something more permanent. A baby. His child.
He’d decided if that were indeed the case, he could only accept his fate. And now, holding Helene again, recalling the doctor’s words announcing she was healthy and a mother-to-be, he felt remarkably calm and, in some respects, even lucky. This past year, since his father’s death, he’d pondered the idea of finding a suitable wife. Now the choice had been made for him.
He wondered what the public reaction to their news would be. But in his heart he knew she would be loved. Helene might be worried about taking up such a public role; it was only natural. But this past week when they’d dined at Alexio’s taverna and had stopped to speak with people on the street, he saw the approval in their eyes. Helene was articulate and witty and possessed a caring nature that anyone who met her couldn’t ignore.
Now he eased down the zip at her back. She lowered her arms from around his neck long enough to let the dress fall past her hips to the floor. Then she released his buttons. Once he’d shucked off the shirt, he swept her up off her feet and headed for his private bedchamber.
With late afternoon sun slanting in through sheer curtains, she would be able to see the room as he usually kept it. His bed was made up with an array of black and silver-threaded cushions strewn over the heavy cover. Non-urgent paperwork and several novels lay spread on a desktop. A cabinet housed sport trophies he’d garnered over the years.
And to the left, in an alcove all her own, the goddess waited.
When Helene’s gaze landed on the figurine, Darius felt her start before she shivered with, he guessed, excitement.
“I got used to having her around,” he said.
“So she’s out in the open for good?”
“For now.”
He wanted to get back to what they’d been doing, but Helene’s attention was fixed firmly on figurine now. “How do you hide her from the staff?”
Setting Helene on her feet, he moved across to the alcove and flicked a hidden switch. A mini velvet curtain closed in front of the alcove and a wooden cabinet automatically whirred around to shut her in. He flicked the switch again and the curtain and doors slid back open.
She clasped her hands under her chin. “Genius.”
He’d crossed back and picked up where they’d left off. His mouth took hers again while his palms sculpted over her curves, and she clung to his shirt and his kiss. When they came up for air, her gaze was smoky. Her arms were around his neck, and she filed her fingertips through his hair.
“If we were to believe in her powers, they’d be wasted on us.”
The figurine’s powers?
“Maybe not wasted rather than already worked.”
He unsnapped the clasp at her back and dropped a kiss against her perfumed throat as the bra loosened, and her bare breasts pressed against him.
“Do you honestly think that she had anything to do with what happened that first night?”
“Don’t know.” Nuzzling her neck, he reached up to cup her breast. “But I sure feel some kind of magic working on me right now.”
He kissed her again, deeply and slowly, and then they shed the rest of their clothes before he led her to his bed. He tossed off the cushions, threw the heavy cover aside, and lay back on the cool sheet before tugging her down. She straddled him, her open thighs draped over his. For a long drugging moment, he drank in the vision of her—the pert pink tips of breasts, the slender sweep of her waist and, for the time being, her flat belly.
He gripped her hips and combed both thumbs lower until they stroked the flesh high inside of her thighs. When he rubbed that moist soft seam, she sighed, gently shuddered, and then moved with his every stroke. He liked the way she gave herself over completely to him. He loved the humming noises she made and the sensations she whipped up inside of him.
If she weren’t pregnant, he wouldn’t have asked her to marry him. She’d have gone home, and he’d have focused on trying to always make the wise choices. He’d have taken the safest route. But now, with this done and all but settled, he couldn’t deny that he could do worse than spend the rest of his life with this woman.
Without the need for protection, he eased inside of her. The thought of only him filling her…the feel of his rigid, unsheathed flesh sliding inside left her snatching down a breath. Then he began to move—long, penetrating, perfect strokes. Her fingers knotted in his hair as her pelvis tilted toward his, and she rocked along with him. With the muted sunlight casting a glow over the room, over her, he gave himself over to the sensations already igniting through his blood. When she arched back, he pushed himself up until they sat front to front, her legs curled around him.
She draped her arms around his neck and, eyes closed, rotated her hips while his mouth made love to her breasts. Her head tilted back and her movements grew deeper, more urgent. He held on to her thighs, grasping her firmly, guiding her, concentrating on the smell of her skin and the throb in his loins.
When her climax hit, she stiffened and arched back before pitching forward. He fell against the bed and brought her down on top of him. Her knees dug into his sides as her contractions and hips continued to roll. His eyes clamping shut, he braced himself against the sudden push, the urge to let go.
When she began to slow, he clasped her waist and rocked her himself. He waited until he was mouth-wateringly close before flipping her over.
With her settling into the sheet beneath him, he studied her face and thought of all the years they had ahead of them, enjoying each other this way as a married couple, as a husband and wife with one baby and more on the way.
That’s when his orgasm exploded. A sweat broke out down his back and behind his knees. He’d enjoyed being with Helene before, but never like this.
As the heat jetting through his veins gradually lost its edge, Helene’s eyelids fluttered opened, and she released a dreamy contented smile. And in that moment, Darius saw something different in her. Gathering her in, he tenderly kissed her smile, each side, top and bottom.
“So, what’s your answer?”
She laughed. “That’s not fair.”
He nuzzled one side of her neck. “I won’t let you
go until I know.”
She shimmied beneath him. “Who said I wanted you to let me go?”
He shifted to search her eyes. No more games. “Will you marry me, Helene?”
Her face flooded with emotion. “Do you really think you could get used to having me around?”
He grinned. “I’ll suffer.”
She eased out a breath and slanted her head into the pillow. “Do you think we’ll be happy, Darius?”
He pressed a lingering kiss to her brow. “I think we’ll be very happy.”
She blinked several times as if working to contain ten different emotions clashing in all at once. Then, a sheen coming over her eyes, she pressed her lips together and finally nodded yes.
Chapter Fourteen
“You and Helene are getting married?”
As Tahlia glanced between Darius and her, Helene wasn’t sure if the tears rushing to her future sister-in-law’s eyes were due to happiness or shock. Darius, on the other hand, was remarkably composed.
They stood in a formal drawing room. Otis was expected to arrive soon. When Darius had said he wanted to tell Tahlia about their decision to marry tonight, Helene had said it wasn’t the right time. They certainly had monumental news to share, but this evening ought to be all about the younger couple, particularly Otis being acknowledged and, in some ways, invited into the fold.
But Darius had been firm. When Tahlia found out she would soon be an auntie, the rift between brother and sister would magically mend. Helene wasn’t certain the evening would play out that way.
“We’ll make the official announcement soon,” Darius said. “In the next week or two. Three at the outside.”
Tahlia audibly swallowed a sharp breath as if suddenly finding enough air was impossible.
“But this is all so fast. You’ve always been so stubborn about taking your time with important decisions…” Tahlia blinked, then her dark-blue eyes shone with understanding. She turned to Helene. “The doctor earlier…”
Darius cleared his throat. “That’s the other thing.”
“Helene, are you going to have a baby?”
With an arm around her waist, Darius brought Helene close. “We thought you should be the first to know.”
Tahlia’s shock melted. She threw her arms around Darius, then gave Helene an equally big hug.
“I’m so happy for you both. I’ll have to tell all my friends. Have you thought about names?”
Darius sent Helene a quick look. Told you so.
“We haven’t discussed names,” he said. “And keep it under your hat for the time being. We need to make our other formal announcement first.”
“But I can tell Otis, can’t I? I’ll burst if I don’t.”
Darius pasted on a smile. “You can tell Otis. I’m sure he’ll appreciate we need to keep this in the family.”
Tahlia’s face lit up even more and she gave him another hug. “This is a perfect night.”
As Tahlia drew away, Darius’s smile appeared benevolent but also tight. “Just so you know, none that this means I condone you two kids doing anything silly.”
“What would you call silly?”
“I’m merely saying there’s plenty of time for…other things.”
Tahlia’s gaze hardened. “Oh, Darius, why don’t you just say it? You don’t want Otis and me to have sex.”
Darius’s arm slid out from around Helene’s back. “There’s a lot to consider.”
“I don’t like to point it out,” Tahlia said, “but I’m not the one who needs to get married.”
Helene cringed while Darius’s jaw tightened. “Then let me point out that I’m a lot older than you.”
“And Helene? She’s not that much older.”
“We didn’t plan this.” Darius explained, “These things…happen.”
“As long as they don’t happen to me.” Her face stony, Tahlia crossed her arms. “At least Otis and I love each other.”
Helene remained calm as the debate heated up. She’d been about to step in a couple of points ago. But how could she argue with Tahlia’s last shot?
She and Darius had good reason to marry. They agreed their child deserved two devoted parents, and they weren’t incompatible. But he’d never confessed his love. Truth was, if not for this pregnancy, she would be on her way by now. Given how devoted Tahlia was to Otis, and how devoted he obviously was to her, why wouldn’t his sister be upset?
Darius was speaking again, telling Tahlia that a lot more than love went into the recipe to create a solid relationship. Tahlia wasn’t impressed. Helene was left a little cold, too.
Tahlia finally threw up her hands and strode out onto the balcony.
“She’s right, you know,” Helene said. “If we have a good enough reason to be together, she and Otis do, too.”
“Surely you’re not talking about marriage?”
“I only know they’re in love. They want to be together. And you just made us sound like…ingredients.”
One part imminent parenthood. One part obligation.
His voice was low, his expression concerned. “We’ve been through this. You know how I feel about you.”
Other than physical compatibility, and the fact she was carrying his child…
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I do.” She glanced at the opened balcony doors. “I’ll go speak with her. Otis will be here soon. Just try not to say anything to upset him before we get back.”
“I have no intention of upsetting him. I asked Otis tonight to open up communication.”
“Then, for everyone’s sakes, make sure you have your listening ears on.”
Out in the night air, her mouth set in a grim line, Tahlia kept her steamed gaze on the view. “You should leave. I’m not the best company right now.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Tahlia grudgingly glanced across and, looking puzzled, slanted her head. “You understand?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“But you’re marrying my brother.” Her slim nostrils flared as she cast her gaze away again. “You have what you want.”
Helene bristled. She might feel bad for Tahlia’s situation, but she didn’t deserve that. Still, she kept her words low and calm. She wanted to help.
“I never set out to land Darius and fling him down the nearest aisle. I liked my life just the way it was. I had things I wanted to do…that I might still do. But we’re having a baby so it seems I’ll be staying on. I hope you and I can continue to be friends.”
Tahlia slumped against the rail. “Oh, Helene, I’m not angry with you. But I could strangle him. Darius shoves all these must-do’s down my throat then changes the rules for himself.”
“We haven’t made this decision lightly. And he’s trying to be understanding. He invited Otis tonight, didn’t he?” She sent over a sympathetic smile. “Give him a chance.”
“I’m a woman with feelings and desires. And options. I feel as if Otis is the only one who really knows who I am. What’s inside of me, here.”
When a small fist tapped the left side of Tahlia’s beaded bodice, an old memory trace lit and the oddest feeling swept over Helene. Reaching for the railing, she patted her flushed cheek.
In a heartbeat, Tahlia was beside her, holding her free hand. “Is it the baby? Should I get Darius?”
“I just had the weirdest flash. Snatches of talks I’ll have with my daughter when she’s older. They’ll be the same conversations I had with my mother, about how she didn’t understand me, only in reverse. Like your disagreements now with your brother.”
Nestling a palm over her belly, Helene softly smiled. “Funny. My mom could be so overbearing. Micromanaging, trying to make her decisions my choices because she thought she knew best. And, know what? More than a few times she did.”
Tahlia’s brow pinched. “You say that now because you need to be on your fiancé’s side.”
“If we get married and have this child together, yes, Darius and I will need to be a team. But t
hat doesn’t mean I won’t have opinions of my own. I’m not made that way.”
“Neither am I. I have a mind. I know what I will and will not accept.”
Helene leaned in. “Can you keep a secret?” Eyes growing wide, Tahlia nodded. “I’m scared about the engagement announcement. About a huge wedding. I didn’t think I’d be tying the knot for a lot longer yet. And the guy I’m marrying isn’t exactly Joe Smith from next door.”
“Darius will make a good husband. He’s been a good brother.” Tahlia allowed a grin. “Not that I want you to tell him that.”
“Can you keep that in mind, at least for tonight? This meeting will be hard enough on Otis and Darius as it is.”
Tahlia raised herself up and, fences partway mended, they moved back inside just as Otis was ushered in. He wore a dark suit and tie with black, mirror-polished shoes. His expression was somber until he saw Tahlia hurry over. Then his green eyes lit up.
When Tahlia stood beside him, Otis remembered himself, found that mask again and bowed in greeting.
“Your Highness.”
“There’s no need to be so formal here, Otis.” Tahlia threaded an arm through his. “You can call my brother by his Christian name.”
Otis looked to Darius for permission. Helene let out her breath when he nodded and smiled.
A subdued whine drew everyone’s attention. In a far corner, beneath a splendid monster-sized mural, Ajax sat, dutifully waiting. Helene sometimes saw Ajax walking alongside Otis, making their way to the stables or, perhaps, to meet Tahlia in a secret place the younger woman had confided about to Helene. As Ajax asked permission to be included in the welcome, Darius denied the request with a look then crossed to a carafe positioned nearby.
Helene heaved out a sigh. Men and their pride.
“Would anyone care for wine?” Darius asked.
With his shoulders squared, Otis came forward. “Thank you…Darius.”
The men spoke about horses while the ladies threw in a comment or two. It seemed Otis had a favorite he was grooming for international dressage contests.
“She’s a beauty,” Tahlia said, sticking to Otis’s side, “Dark and gentle and smart. Bred from one of Father’s champions.”
